Life Shots
by Tears Falling Freely
Summary: A collection of one-shots.
1. Life Blood

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Buffy the vampire slayer or its characters. I make no money from this.

**Warnings:** Occurs sometime during season three before he returned to Sunnydale for a love spell for Dru. **Spoilers:** Season three & five.

* * *

Rushing, pounding, throbbing.

_[It's always got to be blood.]_

Singing, twisting, curling.

_[Blood is life.] _

He moaned, fangs digging deeper.

_[It's what keeps you going. Makes you warm. Makes you hard. Makes you other than dead.]_

Senses filling with the metallic copper of blood, and inhaling deeply, Spike bite into the blonde harsher than before. Her struggles were weakening and Spike's strength was recharging. The cold presence of his sanity challenged sire watching from a distance burning into his back. Fangs still buried in the female's vulnerable throat, Spike rolled his neck, cracking it. His gold slitted eyes gleamed in the darkness of the alley.

_'Slayer.' _Spike mentally groaned, the mental image of ripping the Slayer's throat out shinning brightly in his mind. As Dru would say, the stars would surely sing on that day.

The blonde in his arms taking the brunt of his fantasy released her last breath before everything that had been dimming finally went black. Spike released her with a thud. His arousal was almost painful as he walked over to Dru. He wrapped his arms around her waist but she tilted her head upwards and away from him. A low growl signaled his displeasure but she was the sire, he the childe. He squeezed her waist trying to get her to turn towards him. She ignored him, hissing a single word under her breathe before breaking away from him.

"Slayer."


	2. Lost Without You

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Buffy the vampire slayer or its characters. I make no money from this.

**Warnings:** Occurs sometime after Tabula Rasa. **Spoilers: **Season five and six.

* * *

Wonderful.

The beginning had come with a fawn and spilled blood. A spell that was supposed to bring a joyful reunion; the rescue of a fair princess, the reviving of a hero.

To reunite and mend a broken family.

Instead betrayal and heartbreak running rampant. The living dead with a pulse.

It hurt to admit she was wrong and losing _her _on top of it was agony. Willow was lost and the tears wouldn't stop threatening to stream endlessly. A part of her missing and the bed was cold with loneliness.

A long time coming and still it blindsided her. She was really gone and the problems had probably started before the resurrection and she had been too blind to see it. She wished she could hold her and stop both their pain. Renewed wetness dripped down her cheeks, and Willow sobbed.

"Tara, oh godess, _Tara_," Willow choked out haltingly, "I'm _so _sorry,"


	3. Dust

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Buffy the vampire slayer or its characters. I make no money from this.

**Warnings:** Occurs sometime after the season three finale of Buffy. **Spoilers: **Season three and four of Buffy. Angel the series in general.

* * *

Buffy stared blankly ahead, memories playing on the wall.

She had been upset at first, a cold calm washing through her as he had walked away. She had holed herself up in her room, alternately crying and beating the shit out of anything non-human. Thoughts of UC Sunnydale and leaving home had been put on the back burner. Her friends had allowed her the solitude, for which she would be eternally grateful for.

On the day she had finally decided to get out of the house, Willow had stopped by to drop off news that Angel had settled in Los Angeles. At that point she had been desperate to reclaim some sort of balance. It was time to get out of the house, to try to begin again.

She had found herself at the mansion wandering it's halls with slow steps and a wistfully bitter half smile. She studiously ignored the garden and the main room, where Acathla had been stationed.

Eventually she had found herself upstairs in a random room on a random couch.

She actually vaguely recalled the room, having used it once or twice for sparring or watching the meditative moves Angel had like to perform at least daily. Occasionally, she had joined in.

Phantom words swirled around the room, stimulating her memory. Love's thorny vines twisted around her heart, it's roots entangled deep.

She had come here to find a beginning, instead all she had found was an ending.


	4. Her

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Buffy the vampire slayer or its characters. I make no money from this.

**Warnings: **After As You Were. **Spoilers: **Season six and five.

* * *

Falling for the slayer hadn't been part of the plan.  
_  
[It wouldn't be you, Spike. It would _never _be you. You're beneath me.]_

Drunk off his ass and giggling to himself inanely. Another woman in another time.

_[You're nothing to me, William. You're beneath me.]_

Is he cursed? This isn't the first time, nor he suspects will it be the last.

_[I can still see her, floating all around you! Laughing! Why? Why won't you push her away? I have to find my pleasures, Spike. You taste like ashes.]_

They reject him, throw him away casually, as if he was just a temporary amusement. Than again, not even Cecily had given him that. At least Buffy and Dru had given him _something_. He was a _vampire _for crying out loud. Why was this bothering him so much? He was the big bad, Spike, who had once wielded railroad stakes like they were thumbtacks, pinning his victims. Where had it gone wrong?

_[I'm using you. I can't love you. I'm just being weak, and selfish and it's killing me. I have to be strong about this. I'm sorry, William.]_

He hadn't minded, honestly. He just needed something and what they had benefited them both. He'd enjoyed it, reveled in it, hell, he'd - God, the _slayer_. It went against everything he was, he didn't even have a soul. Dru had been right and he hadn't even known it. Not until recently.


	5. In Passing

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Buffy the vampire slayer or its characters. I make no money from this.

**Warnings:** Takes place in season three, sometime after Lover's Walk. **Spoilers: **Season three. Season one finale.

* * *

Looking back, maybe it had been obvious. Ok, it really had been. He'd just been too dense to see it and now she had someone. Don't get him wrong, he'd never see her as anything more than a great wonderful best friend or a sister. Well, that wasn't exactly true or it hadn't been or maybe it still was in some small way.

All he knew, for a brief while, it had turned into something more. Maybe it was destiny or maybe their own consciousness or feelings but there it was. Maybe its the fact they would have been good for each other but that wasn't what they were looking for. They weren't looking for good, they were looking for more than that.

In passing, occasionally, he found himself wondering. Maybe if it was them regardless of hell mouthiness it would have worked. But than there was the significant others to consider and Xander maybe found himself more attached to Cordy than warranted but she had been his first girlfriend and that counted for something. Willow was in love was Oz and their little fling had more to do with the forbidden anyway.

Not that his relationship meant much anymore what with the ignoring and the glares and can he really blame her? But Oz and Willow were getting back together so maybe it was more of a gender thing or maybe they really weren't interested in each other that way to try.

The Willow thing had gotten out of hand granted and he'd been goading but . . . Maybe it was what Willow had needed to get over him but he had never really be interested, the spell thing notwithstanding but he had resisted that time; like with Buffy and wasn't that amazing considering she had been his crush since forever and hadn't he fallen in love with her?

_[You're in love with her.]_

But that's how Buffy was. And now Willow was added to that list.

Maybe it was time to find guy friends.


	6. Mine

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Buffy the vampire slayer or its characters. I make no money from this.

**Warnings: **Language. Season one of Angel. **Spoilers:** Season one of Angel and general Buffy spoilers.

* * *

_[It started with a girl.]_

She was his inspiration, the love of his life. She turned into his reason and she still was, even miles away. Being in another city didn't change the fact that this was about her, hell, moving was about her. Moving on or some such shit like that. Could he really move on? Of course not but she needed to.

_[Us being together is unfair to you. You deserve something outside of demons and darkness. You should be with someone who can take you into the light, who can make love to you.]_

It was about giving her a normal life. He wanted the best for her, even if it wasn't him.

Oh who was _he _shitting? _He _wanted to be the one to give her happiness. To fill her being with joy. He had given up that right the minute he had walked out of Sunnydale.


	7. Parting

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Buffy the vampire slayer or its characters. I make no money from this.

**Warnings: **During season four. **Spoilers: **Season four.

* * *

Oz gripped the steering wheel tighter as her words echoed in the cramped of the cab.

_[Well, that could be a problem, 'cause people... kind of a planetary epidemic.]_

There will never be another, not like her. She made him feel like no other.  
_  
[My whole life, I've never loved anything else.]  
_  
Sometimes love wasn't enough. Other things got in the way, and although he still loved her, that wasn't the issue. Still, driving away from her was killing him. He had too, no other choice. His heart was shattering, grinding to nothing. God how he loved her, there'd be no one else. He _would _come back, one way or another.

_[Oz... Don't you love me...?]_


	8. If You Weren't Real

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Buffy the vampire slayer or its characters. I make no money from this.

**Warnings: **During season five, after Blood Ties. **Spoilers: **Season five and six.

* * *

_[This is blood, isn't it? It can't be me. I'm not a key. I'm not am I? Am I real? Am I anything?]_

Disoriented, Dawn screamed. She thrashed, kicking and flailing her arms.

"Dawn, calm down!" a voice yelled, barely heard over her screams.

Hands clamped down on her shoulders and she struggled harder.

"It was just a nightmare."

As Dawn recognized the voice she calmed.

"Shh," a familiar voice soothed, "I'm right here."

"I'm, still real, right?" she asked shakily, tremors of fear shaking her voice.

"Of course baby."

"I don't feel real."

_[It's just like mine. It doesn't matter where you came from, or how you got here. You are my sister. There's no way you could annoy me so much if you weren't.]_

"Buffy? Everything was so dark, and burning." Dawn squeezed her eyes shut tight, hands finding purchase on Buffy's shoulders, fingers gripping material, and nails digging into skin.

Buffy started to make cooing noises, rocking Dawn back and forth. Dawn buried her face in Buffy's shoulder, nose sniffling against her hair. The smell of shampoo permeated Dawn's senses.

"Hey," Dawn started shakily, trying to joke, "you used my shampoo."

Buffy hummed in agreement.

_[Buffy, look at me. I'm right here. You're my sister. I need you and love you. Somewhere inside you must know that's real.]_

"If, I never existed, if I never was your . . ."

Buffy cuts Dawn off, her voice sharp, "You'd still be my sister," she says quietly with steel. At Dawn's startled face, Buffy softened her tone, "you will always be my sister, no matter what. You're my sister regardless. You'd always be my sister."

"If you weren't real I would make you up," Buffy started humming, than singing an old lullaby she had made up for them when she was twelve, when these nightmares had started, "If you weren't there, I'd find you. I'd search for eternity to bring you back, where it's safe and warm in my arms at home."

_[I'm not even there, am I? You don't have a sister. It's your ideal reality, and I'm not even a part of it.]_


	9. Loneliness

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Buffy the vampire slayer or its characters. I make no money from this.

**Warnings: **General spoilers for seasons one through seven **Spoilers**: Season eight.

* * *

She always did this. Found someone to fill her, awaken her to the point of feeling.

To erase the deadness she felt inside. It wasn't fair to them or herself.

_[You make me feel...alive]_

Afterwards, it wasn't enough. They left her feeling emptier than before.

_[Were you there with me?]_

It started with Spike, and that almost thing with Xander. Now this thing with Satsu. She used their love for her own selfish desires.

_[Because I'm not ready for you to not be here.]_

It wasn't fair to her or them.

_[I'm using you. I can't love you.]_

But she couldn't let them go.


	10. Empty

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Buffy the vampire slayer or its characters. I make no money from this.

**Warnings: **General spoilers for season four, five, and six. I think I might have gotten my timeline skewed in regard to seasons six, so I'm sorry if I made any mistakes timeline wise. **Spoilers**: Episodes :: The Gift, Dead Things, and Who Are You.

* * *

_[I could never love a thing like you.]_

Buffy can't pinpoint when her dreams became reality.

_[You're nothing.]_

It wasn't supposed to be like this. It was wrong. It wasn't real. _She _wasn't real.

_[There is nothing good or clean in you. You are dead inside! You can't feel anything real!]_

She wasn't supposed to pull a Faith. She wasn't supposed to be like her. Two different ends of the spectrum and yet . . .

_[You're nothing! Disgusting! Murderous bitch! You're nothing! You're disgusting!]_

Maybe they did have a lot in common and it had only taken her a second death to realize it. After last night, she couldn't even meet Spike's eyes in the dreams that kept sneaking in from the corner of her mind. He hadn't shown his face around the Magic Box since, presumably so that he wouldn't have to answer questions as to what happened. If there was ever anything she couldn't do, that was it. To face him now, after pulling a Faith . . . beyond impossible.

She needed to leave him and she had fully intended too. Willow had helped show her what she had to do. This had nothing to do with want, it had to be about need. She needed to stop, she needed to step away from him.

_[It's not always that simple.]_

This is what she needed, she had to walk away, before it became any more complicated. Tara had been wrong, she didn't deserve anything, least of all to be forgiven. It didn't work that way . . . Spike was soulless and his confession of love was a facade.

She needed to hold on to that.


	11. Harm

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Buffy the vampire slayer or its characters. I make no money from this.

**Warnings: **General spoilers for season four and five. **Spoilers**: Season four and five.

* * *

Harmony had been a mistake, and not one of his better ones. Not that the bint was smart enough to realize it. No, she had latched right on to him and refused to let go. Course, there were some parts of that he couldn't say were bad exactly. Still, he had regretted the moment he had picked her up and still did. She was daft and bloody awful to be around. That was one woman he was glad he didn't understand. Sex, she was good at that and clueless enough that she didn't care, or notice, that was all he needed her for.

Spike was startled out of his musing as Harmony stormed into the crypt.

"Can't we get a nicer place? Like the other one, when you were after the gem thingy?" she whined, her face scrunching up in distress the way only the high maintenance could.

"Harm," Spike spat out from clenched teeth, "I've explained several times. Things. Have. Changed."

:::

Harm pouted, put out. She had been putting up with her blondie bear living in this dusty musty old crypt for his sake . . . and because the slayer wanted to kill her for the sister thing.

Still, the things she put up with for him . . . sometimes she wondered if it was worth it, than she'd remembered his body and why she _really _stayed, though he treated her like garbage.

_'Like with that stake to the chest incident. He's lucky I took him back at all.'_ She had taken him back out of the evilness of her heart, even when he wasn't nice because she cared about him . . . and the great sex he gave her.

Was it too much to ask for a little respect in this relationship? Well, if he was going to be mean again, she'd withhold. That trick had worked on her boyfriends when she had been human and in high school. Worked like a charm every time, this wouldn't be any different.

:::

Spike had been so absorbed in Passions, he had been able to ignore Harmony, thankfully. Now though, he was feeling ready for some action. The tent in his jeans seemed to swell a bit, causing him to adjust himself. His cock twitched as he looked around for Harmony. He frowned as he didn't see her.

It was time for some relief and though Harmony's hair wasn't the exact shade as the slayer's, it was close enough.

"Harm?" No response. Odd.

He knew she wasn't beneath the crypt. He would have heard her. She never went down there besides, it was his area and she knew better than to go down there. Spike stood from the arm chair and looked around the area more thoroughly only to find her sleeping on the sarcophagus he usually used when having sex with her.

Annoyed, yet still erect, Spike stalked over to her. She was laying on her back, spread out on the sarcophagus, but Spike ignored that. He grabbed her by the arms and shook her roughly awake.

She was groggy at first, blinking and head lolling. As she woke, her eyes focused on Spike's. For a minute they stared at each other. Harmony's eyes hard and Spike's irritated.

"What do you think you're doing?" he growled.

"I'm not having sex with you."

Spike blinked, gaped, and snorted in disbelief.

She shook loose and crossed her arms over her chest, "You better believe it mister. I'm done playing your games Spike. No more role-playing."

For a moment silence, than laughter. "Hey," Harmony screeched, indignant, "I'm serious."

Spike struggled to hold a straight face, "Oi, I don't doubt you are. But you're forgetting one thing."

"Oh yeah?" she asked haughtily, "What?"

"I'm bloody irresistible."

"Oh yeah? Why don't you have your slayer?"

Spike's eyes flashed and with a feral roar of rage that brought his demon to the fore, he slammed Harmony down on the sarcophagus. She gasped, eyes rolling in pain-pleasure. She arched as he mounted her, roughly shoving in.

:::

_'Oh yeah. Withholding? It works. Like a charm.'_


	12. Once Again

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Buffy the vampire slayer or its characters. I make no money from this.

**Warnings:** Occurs after season seven. **Spoilers:** All seven seasons and the season eight comics.

* * *

She didn't know how they could reconcile. After everything that had been said it seemed insurmountable.

_[With everything that's happened, I— I'm worried about your judgment.]_

_[But not without a price. I'm trying to see your point here, Buff . . . but I guess it must be a little bit to my left . . . 'cause I just don't.]_

___[No, I think you've tau__ght me everything I need to know.]_  


_[We are clearly demonstrating that we are not together on this!]_

The bus made it to San Francisco without incident. Even though Los Angeles was closer to SunnyD, she hadn't been able to even think of going anywhere near Angel, not after Spike's sacrifice. Nobody had argued with her since _that _night, everyone too stunned and dazed to even think of offering suggestions about what to do next. There was too much and it was way too soon.

Giles had needed to call England, the coven still needed to be contacted about what had gone on in Sunnydale, or rather, former Sunnyhell, current crater. Xander was somewhere, Dawn was in a hotel room, sleeping the slumber of the exhausted, and Willow was taking a survey of the newly awakened Slayers in their current care. Faith and Robin had disappeared an hour ago, something about a surprise.

Their friendship seemed ruined, despite their talk before going their separate ways in the high school. Her former Watcher couldn't stand to meet her eyes but it was only fair right? She could barely stand to look into his, not after what he had done, not after what Spike had sacrificed.

"Buffy?" a weak voice stirred her from her thoughts, from the bed where Dawn had been sleeping only moments before.

"Sorry," she started sheepishly, bowing her head, "didn't know I was thinking too loudly."

Silence reigned for a moment before a ball of brown hair flew into her lap.

"He's really gone."

She knew who Dawn was talking about.

"I never told him I still care for him."

Present tense. Buffy choked on a sob. So much loss, pain, and torment, and it all lead to this. Jumbled, broken fragments that would pierce half healed wounds for the next eternity. Her arms slowly closed around Dawn, her head coming to rest atop her sister's.

"Oh, Dawnie," she sighed, biting down on her lip, before finally letting her tears leak, spilling down her face and into Dawn's hair.

_'Dad, Angel, Mom, Riley, Giles, and Spike. They all left and I was alone. I still am.' _Buffy's arms tightened around Dawn as her thoughts pelted her, comforting Dawn through her own tears, _'Always the strong one.'_

_

* * *

_

_[The mission is what matters.]_

Dawn hadn't been easy to soothe back to sleep. She had whimpered and groaned, begging Buffy to stay. Finally, she had dropped off and Buffy had been able to get away. She couldn't be in the same room with the sister she had told Giles she would be willing to sacrifice. No matter how untrue it had been proven to be, with the stunt she had used Xander to try to pull off.

Sacrifice. She had known the meaning of that word once.

__

[I sacrificed Angel to save the world. I loved him so much. But I knew . . . what was right. I don't have that any more. I don't understand. I don't know how to live in this world if these are the choices. If everything just gets stripped away. I don't see the point. I just wish that . . . I just wish my mom was here.]

Grief caressed her skin as she stepped out of the hotel.

_[The last guy I was with, it got really— I behaved like a monster, treated him like— But at the same time, I-I let him completely take me over. Do things to me that—]_

For Spike, the one that had been through it all with her. The only one she had . . . . The only equal . . .

_[ You do have a superiority complex. And you've got an inferiority complex about it.]_

God, Willow, Xander, how could she face them. Anya . . . It had been no secret they hadn't been each other's favorite people. She had been Xander's girl. Too newly human to ever really have been comfortable with them. Too new in her skin and too little time to get it right.

_[You've never had anybody come up to you and say you deserve these things more than anyone else. They were just handed to you. So that doesn't make you better than us. It makes you luckier than us.]_

She wasn't the only one who had lost someone, Xander had too. And Willow . . . they hadn't really ever forgiven each other. When Willow had come back . . . they had accepted each other but forgiveness hadn't happened, maybe it never would.

_[I just— if you knew what I've done, what I've let myself become. My best friends don't even—You'd laugh, you heard some of the things I've done to them.]_

Those last few days, no, months, years, on the Hellmouth had been trying, which was officially the understatement of the millennia.

_[I didn't come here to take anything away from you, but I'm not gonna be your little lapdog, either. I came here to beat the other guy, to do right, however it works. I don't know if I can lead. But the real question is . . . can you follow?]_

A test, that's what those months had felt like. In a way, it had been a final. It had taken everything she had learned those last seven years and more.

Buffy pulled out of her musings as she started down the street. She wasn't planning on walking far, she just needed some fresh air. The school bus had that old air quality about it that was ever present in all school buses.

* * *

When she finally arrived back at the hotel, she found herself _really _not wanting to go in but . . .

Suddenly, Willow burst out through the double doors, looking every which way, dull eyes lighting up when they landed on her.

"Buffy," she exclaimed, a blush starting up and eyes flitting every which way, reminding Buffy of a lifetime ago, "there you are, I've, we've that is, been looking all over for you. Where have you been? Never-mind, there's a reason we've been looking for you, and let me tell you, we've been looking for a while," her eyes widened and she started back tracking, "Not that we blame you, because we don't, but-"

"Breathe," an echo.

Willow nodded, a sheepish smile tugging at her lips, "Right. So, reason; could you, uh, spend the night with Xander?"

Buffy's eyes widened, outraged incredulousness overtaking her features.

"No, no, not like that. I just meant, you know, you both lost someone, we're worried about Xander and you're not exactly . . . yourself . . . which is totally understandable 'cause you know, Spike and well, I know what that's like since with Tara . . . . Not that it's the same, 'cause it isn't but it's similar and well Xander just lost Anya and I'm not saying Xander would, you know but to be on the safe side, and I'd really appreciate it. I'd do it myself but Kennedy. Not that I don't care 'cause I do, but she needs me . . . not to say Xander needs me less or- but that sounds selfish doesn't it? So, I'll stick with less and hope I don't sound like the bitch monster from the black lagoon but since you both _just _lost someone you'd be able to understand better . . . not that Tara's death doesn't affect me as powerfully as when it happened but the, what happened after, with the hair, black, _bad_, I don't want to bring up those memories and I'm afraid I will if . . . if . . .,"

Tears made Willow's eyes glint as she choked, "Oh goddess, if I go to him, comfort him, and it brings everything back . . . I wouldn't know what to do," her voice cracked, trailing off into a broken whimper, "I can't go through that again and I wish that didn't sound selfish but I don't know what else to say, do, and-"

"All-," Buffy blinked, teeth gritting as tears threatened to flood her eyes anew, "-right. I can do that. What room?"

* * *

It would take years for Buffy to stop seeing Xander when he first opened the door. He looked gaunt, his one remaining eye red yet fixed on her unwaveringly. The eye path wasn't in place and the empty socket gaped at her. When Caleb had pushed his thumb into Xander's eye, it had ruined the eyelid. There had been nothing to stitch. It would be nothing short of a miracle if the socket didn't become infected.

He stared at her as if she was transparent before turning and walking back into the room. Buffy cautiously followed after the door didn't slam shut behind him. As she shut the door behind herself she noted a bottle of alcohol on the floor. Thankfully, instead of pulling another from a mini-fridge that was stationed by the bedside table, Xander sat on the one room in the bed.

"Willow sent me," Buffy announced to the silent room, flinching at the sound of her own voice.

_[But you doubt her motives, you think Buffy's all about the kill, then you take the little bus to battle. I've seen her heart, and this time—not literally. And I'm telling you, right now, she cares more about your lives than you will ever know. You gotta trust her. She's earned it.]_

As she watched Xander the words of his speech came back to her. What had happened? Where had that gone? Were they _that_ shattered?

It was the first time their friendship seemed irrevocably finished. Time wouldn't heal these wounds, scars that had been opened and deepened too many times. For all three of them. The first time their friendship had seemed unfixable, Buffy had driven the nail into the coffin, ( _. . . __no __prophecy about the chosen one and her friends_). The second time, Willow had been taken to England by Giles (_Daddy's home._).

It had been a build up, three strikes and you're out, and this had been the death toll. Now, they were _so_ broken, more so than any other time.

"What are you doing here?"

"Willow . . ."

"Why . . . ?"

"Kennedy," Buffy said, intentionally avoiding the real question.

She wasn't ready or willing to deal with the answer. Maybe she hadn't really forgiven Willow, not for either transgression. . . maybe she never could but she had accepted what happened, and was ready to move on. Buffy dragged her feet a bit as she trudged over to Xander and sat besides him, releasing a sigh as she did.

"Anya-"

"I think I need to leave."

Buffy blinked slowly, eyes glazing over as if she didn't understand the words. "Leaving?"

"Just . . . until the hurt fades . . ."

"That could take forever . . ."

"Than at least I don't have that long," Xander said slowly, voice low.

"What," she already knew, "do you . . . mean?"

Xander looked down into his lap, mouth drawn into a tight frown, "I'm mortal Buffy, we die, we all die. Even you."

Buffy sat frozen, wondering if she was really hearing what she was hearing. Xander had always been there for her, the past two years aside, with the death and destruction, the heartbreak, and the . . . bathroom. The incident had brought all sorts of nightmares and memories to the surface. Intellectually she knew that the incident with Spike and Xander hadn't been different in intent but there were factors. For one, her state of dress. Two, Xander was human, she was stronger than him. She had been at full strengthen, fully clothed, and Xander had been possessed. Xander hadn't even gotten as far but that didn't excuse it. It had been years however, seemingly a lifetime ago, and so much had happened.

She melted, letting herself lean against Xander.

"What a mess," she sighed quietly.

"Yeah," Xander echoed.

_[I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I've seen your kindness and your strength. I've seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You're a hell of a woman. You're the one, Buffy.]_

Dwelling aside, she had come to the room to make sure Xander didn't do anything stupid, maybe so they both didn't.

_'Well,'_ she thought wryly to herself, _'at least she didn't use magic this time.'_

That was her Willow, trying to fix things for people, help them to make it better.

_'At least this one won't backfire,'_ Buffy thought as she put her arm around Xander's waist.

"Where are you going?" Buffy asked quietly a few minutes later, the silence oppressive.

"I don't know. Somewhere." Xander's eye fixed on his lap. The anguish in Xander's voice echoed with something inside her.

Quiet reigned over the room for another fifteen minutes, each occupant lost in their own thoughts, before Buffy moved away from Xander and laid down. Xander stayed on the end of the bed, but he glanced over at her in askance.

"Let's just sleep. All this grief is making me tired." She tried for flippant but the tears threatening to drip down her face told a different story.

For a moment Xander only stared at her. For a minute she thought he was going to leave but than he got up, walked over to the other side of the bed, and laid down besides her. For a minute they laid there stiffly but than Xander rolled onto his side and reached for her. Once she was flush against him he wrapped his arms around her and put his face against the top of her head. They stayed that way for a second before it shattered and Buffy could feel wetness upon her head even as her own tears streaked down her cheeks.

They stayed like that for the rest of the night. They were finally home.

* * *

If she had ever needed words, she needed them now.

She and Xander has spent the night sleeping but before that they had held each other and cried. Waking up had been a bit of an ordeal. Both of them had still been fully dressed and both had been entangled with each other, their clothes, and the sheets. Upon untangling themselves Xander had adorned the eye-patch and gone about the hotel room before finally heading for the shower after gathering supplies.

Before he entered the bathroom however, he stopped and spoke, "Thanks. Last night, it was good to have someone near. I hope I gave you some measure of comfort too. I never made it a secret I _disliked _Spike, understatement of the year aside, but he saved us, the world. That means something . . . it has to."

Buffy trembled, a tremor traveling through her frame before she spoke up, "I don't think Anya . . . I think she's in heaven."

She could seem a similar tremor travel through Xander's frame at the words before uttering one last sentence before disappearing in the bathroom. "After, all those years, as a vengeance demon I don't think . . . god, I hope so, she deserve it, heaven, despite . . . everything . . . she was trying . . . and I know she wasn't your favorite person but thanks for saying it."

Buffy felt the world freeze as Xander shut the bathroom door, the words hauntingly familiar.

_[ . . . don't. But thanks for saying it.]_

Grief blurred her eyes and chilled her skin as she stood from the bed and walked out of the hotel room. She needed to get back to her room, to get ready to face a day she desperately wanted to hide from.

_[You think we haven't seen all this before? The part where you just cut us all out.]_

_

* * *

_

It was a clear, crisp day, sun shinning bright. It should have been raining. The weather had been like this the first time her world had ended, when everything had seemed like it was ending and that nothing would begin again. It hadn't been the first time she had been proven wrong.

But this really was the end, the end of seven years of hellmouthy goodness.

The end of a chapter, of several chapters, and yet it was just beginning. It was always just beginning. Was there always a beginning or did it ever end?

_[You think you know . . . what's to come . . . what you are. You haven't even begun.]_

There was so many of them now, Slayers. She and Faith the last to be chosen by death.

_[Before Adam? Not a man among us can remember.]_

They were many now. She had done it to have a fighting chance, but had she upset the scales even more? Only time would tell. Still, she was nervous. If the first slayer had shown up because of that essence spell, what was she going to do now that they had essentially done the same thing. Giles, Willow, and Xander had mixed their essence with hers and now she had infused countless girls with the essence of slayer power, with _her _essence.

_[I talk. I shop, I sneeze. I'm gonna be a fireman when the floods roll back. There's trees in the desert since you moved out. And I don't sleep on a bed of bones.]_

Honestly, she didn't want to think about it. She'd deal with it when, and if it happened.

She was soon knocked out of her thoughts by Willow. "Hey, Buffy. How's Xander?"

Buffy smiled wanly. She had been leaning against the side of the building, lost in thought. Now, Willow was in front of her, probably having spotted her as she walked out of the hotel.

"A wreck but dealing."

Willow returned her thin smile with one of her own, "Giles got through to the coven. Long, extensive speeches aside, I managed to decipher and piece together bits of it. There's Cleveland and than there's Scotland. Supposedly, there's a castle there that would be perfect for a base."

Buffy's eyes shifted to the ground before looking back up, a flinty determination in them. "Family."

Willow looked startled, eye's locking with Buffy's.

"We screw up for good reasons, or not so good reasons, but it's what we do. We're family. We accept and move on, even if it's not quit forgiveness." While Dawnie was family, her daughter really, all things considered, the cracked relationship she had with Dawn was for another time and place.

"Buffy-"

She didn't let Willow finished her sentence. Just pushed off the wall and started walking, throwing over her should one last line before walking back into the hotel, "Get Xander, have him meet us at the cafe down the block."

* * *

The world at large was ignorant. They liked to hide, conjure explanations from the ether that comforted them at night. The dark used to be something feared, for the things that devoured silently. Now, brightly harsh lights illuminate the dark, lining highways and streets, buildings and hallways. Only those open, vulnerable, and _weak_, feared the dark these days.

_[Not one of them cares about you.]_

The cafe was small, probably about the size of the Expresso Pump. It was why she had picked it, they weren't likely to be happened upon here. She had been waiting for twenty minutes now but she didn't mind. They'd be here. She was right, as less than a minute later, Willow and Xander walked in, holding hands, Xander leaning subtly into Willow. She envied Xander that. He could be weak in front of them, he could let go, lower his defenses. She didn't have that luxury. She had the dark, and the radio, and running water to hide the sound of her sobs.

Willow was stronger than either of them at the moment but her own inner pain was evident in her eyes. Even after the black hair and sharp eyes and razored words, Willow still expressed her emotions freely. She was strong in her pain. A lapse, a blood drenched mistake, hadn't changed that.

_[Every single person down there is ignoring your pain because they're too busy with their own.]_

Willow sat opposite her, and Xander sat to the side, in between both of them. Tension held their bodies immobile. A waitress broke the stillness for the length of time it took to take down three orders of black coffee. The silence stretched once the waitress left until Willow broke it.

"We're going our separate ways for a while, aren't we?"

They all stared at each other, gazes heavy.

"I think," Xander started, tone awkward, "I'm going to, find . . . Dracula . . . maybe, stay for a while."

Buffy and Willow stared at Xander, gaping. Xander scowled.

Willow interrupted the conversation, clearing her throat before adding in her own plans, "I'm gonna take Kennedy, somewhere. But I'll be back, help with . . . whatever you decide to do, go wherever you decide to go."

All three looked to the table top, silent again for a moment before Buffy finally spoke.

"Scotland. I think I'm going to set up in Scotland."

Silence, again, before Xander spoke, "Think I'll help you get settled . . . than, go."

_[The loneliness. The confusion. It looks quiet down there. It's not. It's deafening.]_

Crippled, their friendship was crippled. That was the word. Maybe not insurmountably irrevocably unfixable.

"Guys, I-" she was cut off by a voice being cleared.

They turned as one towards the voice, and an echo of memory resounded in the silence, _(Daddy's home.)_

Giles. Buffy could vaguely recall the stuffy British librarian who had worn tweed and seemed to have something jammed up where the sun doesn't shine. Now he seems old and worn, tired beyond the telling of it. Buffy thinks if he was any older he'd be dust. As it is, he's hunched over slightly, as if he requires a cane, as if his muscles just aren't up to supporting him any longer.

After everything, she's unsure if she can trust Giles anymore, not completely. She loves him, the father figure whose pride had made her feel more confident, and more vulnerable all at once. He had once lost his job for caring too much, for tenderly treating her wounds and acting like she was his wayward daughter who needed a guiding hand. They all had needed that, her, Willow, and Xander.

Maybe they'd never repair what they had. Maybe she won't trust Giles ever again.

_[You may not be wanted, but you will be needed.]_

But that's a risk she won't throw away. To be able to trust him again . . . Buffy wants to and she won't miss a chance to do so due to being too cautious.

"Ah, you may, uh, want to know," in a familiar gesture, Giles takes his glasses off and wipes them on his shirt, "the castle in Scotland only needs to be inhabited and," he slipped them back on with a sigh, "and you can settle in whenever you're ready."

Giles seemed to have come for what he had needed to say for he turned and started to walk away before Willow spoke up, "We were, well sort of, just, uh, discussing the future."

The man she had once, and still, if she wanted to dig, considered father turned and walked back, taking a seat opposite Xander. Broken, skittish gazes connected and parted, wounds new and old aching.

Broken but together. Shattered yet connected. Spider web cracks littering the fragile glass of their trust yet still willing to try.

_[Well, I still care about them. That's why I'm here.]_

Her family.


	13. Musing Relfections

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Buffy the vampire slayer or its characters. I make no money from this.

**Warnings: **General spoilers for season four, and five. **Spoilers**: Season five.

* * *

_[It's okay. I know she doesn't love me]_

Xander grimaced. He wondered if he was the only one who had noticed the way Buffy's relationship with Riley wasn't working the way Willow, and everyone else, had hoped it would. He hadn't really noticed it before Riley had admitted he didn't think Buffy loved him but now it was obvious. Little things that hadn't clicked before. Riley was rebound guy, maybe more so than Parker had been. It wasn't consciously either, not really.

It had left Xander feeling a little cold, to hear the finality in Riley's voice, compounded by Buffy re-entering the dorm room. It wasn't obvious but now that he had been paying attention, little things stood out. It wasn't fair to either of them, whatever _it_ was.

At first, it hadn't made sense. How could he even begin to imply that Buffy was using him, that she didn't actually love him. They looked so . . . normal, the happy couple who in a few years would be married with a kid on the way and . . . that wasn't Buffy. She wasn't that person, she couldn't be. She was the chosen one and wasn't _that _a punch in the gut. But it opened his eyes all the same.

Anya. He didn't know if it was going to last but he loved her, didn't want anyone else, not really. Buffy would always be his hero, his first crush, and possibly his first love, but Anya . . . she was it, the one. The person he wouldn't mind growing old with.


	14. Internal Thoughts

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Buffy the vampire slayer or its characters. I make no money from this.

**Warnings: **General spoilers for season four and five. **Spoilers**: Season four and five.

* * *

She wasn't the only one anymore. Now there's hundreds of girls, and one calling. Expect she feels more alone now than ever. They have a choice. They don't have to fight the forces of darkness, there's hundreds of other girls to do that. They can chose to use their power for something else. She had no choice.

_[I have all this power. I didn't ask for it. I don't deserve it. It's like . . . I wanted to be punished. I wanted to hurt like I thought I deserved.]_

A sisterhood, a place where understanding flourishes. She didn't have that. Not even Faith can understand. Faith had enjoyed slaying whereas she had wanted nothing more than to be normal. She hadn't wanted this but she had done it, had sacrificed for it.

They don't understand that, they can't. Those girls never went through being the only one and Buffy can't understand having other people who truly understand, who could truly share the burden. Her friends had done they best they could and she was grateful for that, loved them for that but . . .

_[They'll never know how tough it is, Dawnie, to be the one who isn't chosen. To live so near to the spotlight and never step in it.]_

She and Faith were the last to be born from death. The last to be born from true, lasting death. Those girls had been born from life, their strength given to them freely.

_[I feel like I'm worse than anyone, I'm beneath them. I feel like I'm not worthy of their love. 'Cause even though they love me, it doesn't mean anything 'cause their opinions don't matter. They don't know. They haven't been through what I've been through. They're not the slayer. I am. Sometimes I feel— this is awful—I feel like I'm better than them. Superior.]_

Buffy sighed, walking over to her bed. For a while she just sat, staring blankly. She didn't want to be feeling this way, the last time she had, Spike had bared the brunt of it and he wasn't here anymore.

_[You do have a superiority complex. And you've got an inferiority complex about it.] _

Why? Did this have to happen every time? What had triggered this in the first place anyway? Sunnydale . . . it always came back to that, despite that it was a crater now. The memories there . . . the things they said, did, to themselves and each other . . . it was always simmering under the surface.


	15. Comfort

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Buffy the vampire slayer or its characters. I make no money from this.

**Warnings: **General spoilers for season seven and six. **Spoilers**: Season seven.

* * *

"That's the thing I love about you, the fact that you keep trying. That's what sets you apart. After the soul, you helped me through the days I couldn't face it."

Buffy startled, eyes wide. But there was a new found confidence underneath that wide eyed stare. Look like his mini-speeches had done the trick.

_'There's the girl I fell in love with.'_ Spike thought, _'My little piece of heaven. Probably the closest I'll get to it.'_

Crawling into bed with Buffy, it was the last thing he thought would happen, not after . . .

As he closed his arms around her and put his chin against her head, he whispered, "You helped me find a reason. You'll get stronger," he said, voice fierce with conviction, "if you need me I'm not far away."

"Thanks," she said, throat tight.


	16. A Study of Instances

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own the Buffy the vampire slayer or its characters. I make no money from this.

**Warning: **Run on sentences and confusion. Spoilers for the t.v show and comics.

* * *

**Constrict**

What she did for Dawn was a one time deal, something that had stemmed from a love all consuming, this time however the world would be destroyed, not just sucked into a hell dimension and that seemed to make all the difference.

**Heartbreak**

Would she still sacrifice them if, when she saved the world, there was nothing left; no one alive so it's not really the world she saved but the planet itself and is it really the world if there's no one to live; to love; to hate; to lust; to betray; to care for?

**Once**

She'll always love Angel differently from how she loves anyone and everyone else, it's a fact of life that stung when Riley looked her in the eyes and said chose, it's a fact of life that burned when Spike sacrificed himself and denied her love, and it's a fact of life when Xander's head pops before her eyes just for an attempted kiss.

**Taught**

He's a father figure she doesn't need anymore, everything he has to teach has been passed to her, and yet she'll always need him even as she shuts that door.

**Consant**

Willow has been a steady presence in her life, they're there for each other even when they can barely understand and when they understand only too well.

**Persistant**

She can count on him to tell her what she needs to hear and at the same time being brutally honest; it's why she loves him and goes to him and relies on him like she used to Giles.

**Paralytic**

She was born from her blood and more a sister than she had been when she was just memories obscuring the link that didn't click until after learning the truth; that she was a key that opened the door.

**Penetrating **

He sees through her; the one she can't fool even when she tries.

**Solititude**

They can't understand her and she can't understand them; they're not the chosen one and she isn't not the chosen one.

**Together**

Yet they're together and they understand even when they don't because how could they when she's the only one but suddenly she's not and their legion and she's still alone because she's the original, the first; not activated by mystical means; she's real and they're not because nobody is because they're links on a chain and does it really matter but it does because it's the only thing real.

**Eternal**

They're alone together; they've been there since the beginning and they'll be there at the end.


	17. Things I Can't Change

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Buffy the vampire slayer or its characters. I make no money from this.

**Note: **The ends a bit, blah, but all in all, I'm happy with this piece.

**Warnings:** Spoilers, sort of, for season four and six.

* * *

Packing a bag for England had probably had a romantic notion attached to it when she was younger or maybe a more scholarly feel to it. She hadn't imagined the tears in her eyes or the feeling of despair curling in her gut. Nor had she predicted the nauseousness that threatened to bring up bile. She hadn't eaten since before the time she didn't wanted to think about.

The ringing of her phone startled her. She was had been sure she had unplugged it but than she remembered that she had turned off the cellular phone and left the telephone alone, not thinking anyone would call her. There wasn't a reason to and it's not like her friends would want to talk to her after, it. It had taken Giles a week to make the arrangements and in that time she hadn't seen hide nor hair of anyone, not that she blamed them. After it, she wouldn't be surprised if they never came near her again.

She hadn't cried since the trigger of it had happened. She wouldn't allow herself to, she didn't deserve to cry, she couldn't cry, and that scared her more than anything. Half expecting this trip to be about putting her down like a rabid dog was what kept her calm. It wouldn't matter afterwards anyway.

Fourth ring and she gathered up the will to answer it.

"Hello," dully, lacking emotion or even a hint of life.

"Willow?" unsure, and it was almost enough to make her cry when she recognized that voice.

"Oz?"

For a moment that's eternity, there is silence.

"Yeah, it's me."

_[I was waiting. I feel like, some part of me will always be waiting for you.] _

Tears came unbidden, pressure pressing against her eyeballs, begging to be let fall. She ignored it, sucking it up. Crying wasn't something she had done recently and she wasn't about to start over an ex.

"Why, are you calling?"

"I talked to Giles."

Only four words and she was ready to start screaming, to hang up the phone and tear the cord from wall. But she didn't. Instead she just stood there, staring blankly ahead. Their last meeting was flooding her mind, all the heart achy bits and the tears and the pain and the . . . She couldn't even think of it in the vaguest capacities and how pathetic was that?

"I know."

Oz had always been very calm and and introverted. Not for the first time she wished the concern in his voice was more obvious. Now everything about that last meeting was flooding back - techni color and surround sound. Her and him, a decision that was one of the hardest decision she had ever made, and yet she had made it and it had lead to the happiest, most loved, the most cherished, precious, sacred, and a million billion, zillion more indescribable years of her life.

She didn't think, no she knew, she'd never feel those things again, no matter how long she may live. Her love for the two of them had been different and they would both always hold a place in her heart but she didn't think she'd recover from this lose. It had hurt to even form words when Oz had left but she had taken her heart and soul with her and it hurt even to move or think or speak or breath or_ live_. She'd never recover from this, she knew it from her very _bones_.

"Willow?" tenderly, affection and love very obvious this time and coming through loud and clear. She suddenly wished it _hadn't_ been more obvious. Than again, it had always been obvious to her.

Finally, finally, loud wrenching, tearing sobs burst fourth and that hurt too. The phone tumbled from her trembling hand as she completely collapsed. Tears, snot, and saliva soaked her carpet where her face lay but she couldn't find it in herself to get up, to move. Oz hadn't hung up, she couldn't hear the dial tone or much of anything for that matter as she sobbed and cried and shook.

That was how Giles found her two hours later, laying on the floor and gasping for breath as she sobbed spasmodically. The phone on the floor, steady faint breathing coming from it, signaling someone still on the line. Willow was a shivering, quaking mess - Giles barely recognized her.


End file.
